Forbidden Fruit
by KLwriter79
Summary: Defined: "anything of desire whose appeal is a direct result of knowledge that cannot or should not be obtained.  Something that someone may want but is forbidden to have."    warning:contains a slash pairing
1. Hidden Depths

_Author's Note_

This was originally a series of one-shots (now chapters) set in the same story line. Narration switched between first person and third person. Each one-shot was a different character narrating, and each one-shot was further along in the setting.

It was recommended that I place all of the one-shots together as I did at another fan fiction site, eliminating the chance of people reading them out of order and becoming very confused.

Each original title and summary will begin each chapter.

I hope you enjoy.

_KL

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**This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

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**Hidden Depths**

_I wonder who it was that said it's easier to hide a snake in the den than a lion in a pit._

The doors to the Great Hall collided violently to their attached walls. Malfoy, with all the grace he could muster, swept through the newly exposed entryway. His eyes, flashing with indignation, locked on his prey. Grey met green and for a moment time stood still. Then, with a slight twitch to his mouth, he strode forward, keeping the wide-eyed Gryffindor pinned by his gaze. Halting just across the table from that startled face, his mouth curled up on one side. Harry continued to stare, a deer in headlights. Again, time slowed to nothing.

"Merlin's balls," Malfoy finally muttered. With an arrogant huff, he hauled Harry up by the robe fronts and snogged him senseless. "Thank Morgana I love you, you sodding prick," Malfoy spat as they broke apart, "but if you ever send me an ultimatum like that again . . .." Here he stopped, frustration stealing his words. Hissing low from his throat, he dragged Harry half over the table for another mind-numbing kiss. Dropping a dazed Harry back to the wood, he shook a piece of crumpled parchment. "You wanted us to come out? Fine! Were out!" he all but snarled. Lifting him up for a final time, Malfoy bit Harry's lip in a possessive, soul scorching kiss. Then slamming the parchment down, he whirled away in flurry of robes.

Harry tentatively reached for the creased bit of paper, confusion etched on his flushed face. "But, Draco, I didn't . . .," he stammered to Malfoy's retreating back.

"Well, are you coming?" Malfoy commanded over his shoulder with a magnificent, yet unexpected smile, abruptly ending Harry's attempt to defend himself. Scrambling over the table, Harry took off through the wide open doors after Malfoy.

It was Dean who eventually broke the horrified silence of those left behind. His calmly stated "I'll be buggered," sparked a flood of deafening conversation.

Seamus cuffed Neville on the back, laughing good-naturedly as he bellowed, "Who would have thought it? Hidden depths with those two, huh m' lad, hidden depths. Pay up the lad, m' boys!" With a hesitant hand and timid smile, Neville accepted their Galleons.

"Oy, Neville! What are ya gonna do with your winnings?" Ron demanded.

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"Go to Egypt," I reply, earning gales of laughter from those around me. As the teasing and merriment wind down, I observe my housemates cautiously while I slide the discarded slip of parchment below the table. Ron is now rubbing the back of his head, trying to ignore Hermione's lecture on the dangers of gambling on a best friend's love life, while Dean and Seamus are already calling out odds on how long the newly discovered couple will last. _Not long at all,_ I think as I bashfully decline to bid on these new stakes. Seamus makes some joke about 'knowing your limits,' before turning back to Dean. _Honestly,_ I scoff to myself, _how would it look to my future husband if he ever found out I had bet on his current happiness?_ I finger the evidence of my ruse wistfully before silently banishing it from this world. I do know my limits. Harry's too. I have to conceal my smirk as I count my winnings. _I wonder who it was that said it's easier to hide a snake in the den than a lion in a pit._ I let loose a small snicker and then force a blush to my cheeks when curious looks are thrown my way. _Hidden depths indeed._


	2. The Fierce Snake

**This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

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**The Fierce Snake**

Welcome to the Pit

_While it prefers to remain secretive and escape from trouble, this most venomous snake in the world will bite when threatened._

The snake has long been misunderstood. Capricious humanity has raised them to the highest of ranks, guardians of most sacred places, only to cast them down as evil masters of deceit and vengeance. This eternal duality will forever hinder any capacity to fully fathom the intriguing animal, even at the best of times . . .

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I stare down at the lithe form sprawled beneath me, breath still slightly hitching even in repose. Images from this morning slip into awareness causing my gentle gaze to turn feral as it lifts to penetrate beyond the wall directly behind my bed.

I knew the Gryffindor garter would strike soon. And I must give the little devious snake some credit. The handwriting was so close, a lesser snake than I would have taken the bait, cut its losses and found new territory. However, even this little thief in the garden wouldn't have had enough information to perfectly imitate my beloved.

I slide off of my mate and nuzzle at his neck as he whimpers in loss. As it was, the letter struck out at the wrong prey. If the attack had been directed at my little lion, this morning's scene would have played out much differently, not mine to control.

With this thought I rear back and freeze, assessing the plausibility of a new threat from that same pest who thought himself big enough to come out and play. My eyes burn in cold rage as I realize how close the garter actually came to what is mine, disturbing my nest. I will not have it!

I glide back down and coil around those responsive limbs with deadly grace, offering protection and receiving warmth as the cold recognition of truth slithers up my spine. This common little garter of Gryffindor will be dealt with swiftly. My retribution is lethal and my bite far more unforgiving than my hiss when provoked.

He will learn the hard way that it's not the snake that hides one must fear.


	3. Boomslang

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**This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

**Boomslang**

While it is well camouflaged and not overly aggressive, this deadly snake approaches swiftly and strikes without any warning. A very unusual snake in that it is one of the very few poisonous snakes identified in its family.

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_Imbeciles. The world would be well rid of them. The Longbottom boy. That is one imbecile that will never touch this body. Sending a note without even a simple forgery spell. Amateur. Disgusting really._

_Should have gone the same way as his parents, much more merciful way to go if you ask me. Which no one has. No one ever does._

_It's for the best though, if you think about it. Too many questions and people would become curious. Curiosity can be dreadfully painful as you well know. No, it's best if we kept this in our head for now. Wouldn't want the wrong sort of people to show interest._

_But where is the thrill in that? No challenge. I once heard it said that to win big, one must play big . . ._

_Down boy. Your Gryffindor is showing. Rest easy for now. Let's focus on tonight. Lucius' son. A well worthy human he just may be. Certainly more so than his father. As blood thirsty and possessive as they come._

_Blood thirsty, possessive and easily led by the cock. That's my Draco._

_Now, now there is no need to be crass. He may just prove his loyalty tonight. The note did say he was going to "demonstrate his utter devotion to his true mate." One wonders what lengths he will go, wrapped completely around the little finger as he is. A valuable asset._

_Clueless though. All of them. Playing into the hands effortlessly. Tedium of it is making me antsy__. Fools. So sick and tired of fools surrounding, suffocating me. Thinking they own me. To be sought after, fought over, won like some cheap prize at a fair. Cheap I am not. Oblivious I am not. The real snake in all this? That we are. . ._

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The Gryffindor common room was at peace for once. The hustle and bustle of dorm life settling as teenagers succumbed to the exhaustion of the day's events and took themselves off to bed. The young man in glasses stared serenely at the flames within the hearth as if in contemplation. The only other occupant watched his companion with a worried brow before breaking the silence.

"Hey, Harry, you alright?"

"Yeah, fine. Why?"

I just thought you were having another vision. You were doing that creepy Parseltongue mumbling again."

"Oh. Well, you worry too much," the spectacled youth replied as he hoisted himself out of the chair, removed a length of shimmering fabric from his bag and headed for the door.

"Oy! Hermione wanted to know if you've seen Neville. They were supposed to meet go over Charms notes, but he never showed up. He seemed distracted and a bit jumpy at dinner."

"Ron, Neville is always jumpy. Perhaps Snape gave him detention and kept him late, ever think of that. Now I have somewhere to be."

"Right then. . . . Where are you off to?"

The answer was a pair of eyebrows raised above the stunning, famous green and a smirk, which caused the red-head to become red-faced.

"Wait, never mind. I don't want to know. And just so you're aware, that smirk is creepier than your mumbling. Malfoy sure has rubbed off on you."

"I thought you didn't want to know details, but if you're that interested I could spare some time to tell you all the different ways he has rubbed off on me and the variety of ways I have rub. . ."

"NO! I just meant his personality has influenced yours. Aww, man, just go on." Ron gave him a goofy grin and made a swift escape.

Listening to the fading footfalls on the stairwell leading to the dorms, the room's last occupant cocked his head and gazed back at the fire. "Malfoy's not the only one" was the whispered confession to the air as the now crimson-eyed man swung the invisibility cloak over his shoulders. The portrait frame softly snicked shut. The flames flickered in the stillness.


	4. Serpent in the Garden

_Author's Note_

_This chapter includes 1st person narration of all three characters. Lines, as in previous chapters, will show when the switches occur._

**This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

**Serpent in the Garden**

_Tree of Knowledge or the Tree of Life? Why not both? _

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"Please, my love, let me talk to him," my mate begs between intoxicating kisses.

"Harry." His agile tongue stops my hiss of protest. Pulling back, his gaze renders me speechless once again.

"I cannot let you kill him. I cannot live with that. Draco, please?"

"Harry," I sigh. "Does it mean that much?" His head drops to my shoulder and that wicked tongue dances across my neck.

"Let me see to him. Let him understand who I truly belong to." His hand slips into my robe and wiggles down the front of my trousers.

With a gasping, "Harry," I am bucking into his grip. "You play dirty, my love," I groan into his supple mouth. A lifetime later he lifts his head and cups my cheeks in his hands.

"Thank you," he whispers.

"Anything for you, my own. I will be waiting. Don't be long." I grasp his hands, pressing kisses to them before I turn in a swish of robes and stroll out the door.

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I hang there panting, eyes closed, body still twitching in pain. My mantra of 'it's only an act,' that Malfoy is being used so methodically, sends joy bursting through me, freezing my jealousy and numbing my raw, throbbing nerves. I knew my Harry would save me. Watched him storm in, shock plastered across his stunning face before grabbing Malfoy's arm and shoving him away.

I knew I had to push Malfoy over the edge. Had to show my Harry just what that pompous snake was capable of. He is worth it, this agony and degradation in front of my enemy. I would do anything to win my Harry.

Hearing Malfoy groan in pain brings a smirk to my lips. The door slams, and I am comforted in the knowledge that my beloved belongs to me. He mutters in Parseltongue as he crosses the room and gently frees me of Malfoy's pitiful shackles. He is stronger than I thought. "Harry," I croak only to be interrupted.

"Shhh, save what is left of your strength."

"Harry," I sigh. His hands are upon me. It is bliss. I feel as though I have waited a lifetime for him, my own.

"Neville." His voice carries only inches, breath caressing my lips. "Open your eyes, little Gryffindor."

It is a struggle; my nerves no longer want to obey. My lids crack. He is a shadow over me, ebony hair hanging as he checks my pulse.

"Would you be my first, Neville?" His quiet question races through my brain, creating that connection and lifting my lids wide open. Dumbfounded, I stare at his bowed head. I am in awe.

"Yes," hisses from my dry, split lips. His body begins to shake, and it is only when he lifts his head do I understand it is from laughter.

"Good," my love rasps out. Cold realization pierces my chest as I am caught in his crimson eyes.

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_That was beautifully executed, a privilege to watch._

_Thank you. It was a much smoother transition than I thought. Your assistance was invaluable._

_Harry, who else could have helped you with this task? My intimate knowledge and experience in this matter are yours to command. Think nothing of it, my own._

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The young, raven-haired man stands, face alight with pleasure, muttering Parseltongue into thin air. Stooping down, he silently contemplates the other young man before efficiently pulling a blade out the still chest. The hilt flickers in the candle light as a precise hand carves out seemingly random wounds on its owner's flesh. Bringing the weapon to a halt, the beauty again stoops, only this time he scoops up a small bit of hot metal that gleams with its own light. Raised to red specked eyes, the looped symbol for The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black slides onto a length of chain, slipping down to softly clink against another of its kind. The rings are slipped over his slim neck to rest warmly upon his heart, protected from prying eyes beneath the worn cloth. A few more mumbles in Parseltongue, the man glances back at the cooling corpse of his sacrifice with a pleased grin, fingering the souls hidden beneath his too short robe. His sigh barely audible as he then sheds his inner skin and drops to the floor, the remembered sword clattering along with him. The door bursts upon aged hinges revealing a sobbing, emerald eyed boy.

The medieval walls stand, mute witnesses to this liar in the garden and the genesis of a new era.


End file.
